


make a little room for me

by tipperaryhill



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 09:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2144982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tipperaryhill/pseuds/tipperaryhill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall got like this sometimes, Harry knew. Silent. Contemplative. Distant. It used to bother Harry when they first started sleeping together; it became easy to blame Niall’s oddness on what they were doing - what they were becoming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	make a little room for me

**Author's Note:**

> hiiii so this is for the narry squad that's floating around tumblr. i'm sorry things have been dry on the american front.

“Niall?” Harry said sleepily, sitting up in the hotel bed and looking tiredly across the room, taking in the rigid way his bandmate was sitting. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, “What’s the matter, mate?” 

Niall continued to stare out of the window, his hands clasped tightly around himself and his jaw clenched and tucked on his knees. “I’m not sure, Haz.”

Harry could see the outline of Niall’s naked spine reflecting off of the light of the moon. Harry wished he could paint this, photograph this, just so he could always remember how beautiful Niall was in that moment, naked on an expensive settee in Washington D.C. 

Niall got like this sometimes, Harry knew. Silent. Contemplative. Distant. It used to bother Harry when they first started sleeping together; it became easy to blame Niall’s oddness on what they were doing - what they were becoming. It was hard for Harry not to prod him, not to question his uncharacteristic moments like this. Harry understood how necessary down time was for them individually, really, but he never quite thought Niall would need it so intensely.

Harry had needed help to understand. 

“You ever notice how Niall is always go, go, go, like?” Zayn had murmured one night in their second tour, reaching across the hotel bed for another pint of lo mein to share before the other boys joined them. He warned Harry, “Don’t spill any of that on the duvet, mate. Gotta sleep here.”

“I won’t,” Harry promised. They both knew he probably would but Harry supposed the gesture was still there in promising. “And yeah, that’s Niall. Um, good lad.”

It made him uncomfortable, talking about Niall in the early days, unsure when and if the bring up the fact they were fucking. And besides, Harry guessed Zayn already knew, but had enough tact to keep quiet.

“You ever notice how Niall gets, like, silent, too, sometimes? Like he can’t get far enough from us boys?” Zayn looked at Harry, tilting his beanied head and drove those fucking eyes into his soul, as it seemed to Harry. 

Harry broke eye contact, suddenly invested into keeping the duvet an ivory colour. He didn’t respond. 

“I know it’s frustrating, bro,” Zayn had said softly, and Harry didn’t need to look up to see his friend’s sympathetic gaze. “Because Niall isn’t usually shy about his feelings or thoughts, but. It’s just something he needs, like? Y’know? Like you with your hipster mates or Liam with his clubbing.” Zayn chuckled. 

It took Harry a few moments to gather that information because he knew, yeah, Niall has needs just as the rest of them but. It was Niall. The same boy from Mullingar who shoved his leg between Harry’s when they were sixteen and breathed beer-smelling breath into his face with: “Are you gonna kiss me, then?” Niall didn’t need anyone to affirm who he was like Harry; to affirm his public perception like Liam; to affirm his quiet statements like Zayn; or to affirm his protective nature like Louis. It made Harry feel useless; if Niall didn’t need Harry to comfort him, even after years of sleeping together,of being together, did he need Harry at all?

Having Zayn reassure him that it wasn’t a Niall-and-Harry problem but rather a Niall-and-Fame problem, lifted a heavy burden off of Harry’s shoulders, even if it did sound a bit selfish.

Harry frowned into his carton of pork and broccoli. “They’re not hipsters. That’s just a negative term now.”

“Whatever, Haz,” Zayn rolled his eyes, grabbing the remote to turn Made in Chelsea up. 

Harry smiled, lifting his fork to his mouth when -

“I’ll get a damp flannel,” Zayn sighed, glaring at the bleeding soy sauce stain. 

Harry didn’t thank his bandmate for his unsolicited advice that night but he supposed Zayn knew, in some way, that Harry appreciated it and it was summer, sweaty nights like these that made Harry realize how essential the other boys were to he and Niall’s Whatever-It-Is. 

Harry sat up fully, escaping the confines of the hotel duvet and pressing his feet onto the carpet. “Do you need anything? Cuppa? A cold flannel?”

Niall was silent. He turned his back completely to Harry.

“Um,” Harry stuttered. 

Niall brought his left hand and wiped it across his face. Suddenly, Harry couldn’t just sit by and watch Niall cry. 

“Oh, babe,” Harry rushed to the settee, probably too unaware of his naked self. He squeezed himself next to Niall and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. Niall relaxed into his side, sniffing and looking away.

“It’s stupid,” he muttered darkly.

“It’s not,” Harry promised. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Niall sighed. “Should, shouldn’t I?”

“I don’t want to pressure you or anything, love,” Harry kissed the top of Niall’s head. “But if it’s keeping you awake at 4 in the morning then it would be best to talk about it.”

“Well,” Niall took a deep breath, ”better get to Leemo’s room then.” He made to get up.

“What?” Harry squealed.

Niall let out a bold laugh, looking up at Harry with wet eyelashes and a wide smile. “You’re a gullible idiot, Haz.”

“I was prepared to comfort you, at almost little to no cost, you know,” Harry raised his chin, wishing he didn’t believe everything Niall said sometimes. 

“Is that supposed to be a deal?” Niall put his head on Harry’s chest and wrapped an arm around his stomach so they were laying on the settee. “Are you taking advantage of my emotional state?”

“America has changed me.”

“Twat.”

“Oi, are you going to tell me what you’re in a strop over?”

“Depends on the price, doesn’t it?” Niall looked up at Harry, smirking. And. OH. 

“I really like this settee.” Harry blurted.

Niall rolled his eyes. “Thrilling, Haz, ta.”

“No, I mean. I really like this settee,” Harry tried to rush before Niall could roll his eyes again. “And I’d like it even more if you’d fuck me on it.”

“Jesus,” Niall breathed out, amazed at how brazen Harry could get, how sexy he was without noticing. 

“M’name’s not Jesus,” Harry grinned. Niall sat up, groaning when he realized Harry was also nude.

“How did I not notice you were naked?”

“America has changed you, too. You barely even acknowledge me at our shows anymore. People are noticing and - “

Niall swung his leg across Harry’s hips, straddling him before grinding softly down. 

“Do you want to keep talking about the Tumblr community, babe?” Niall leaned down, his hands splayed across Harry’s chest so he could nibble his lobe. 

“No,” Harry gripped Niall’s hips, grinding eagerly up. “No.”

Niall smiled into Harry’s neck, pressing tight lipped kisses as he trailed to Harry’s lips. 

“But we are definitely talking about this in the morning.” Harry gasped into Niall’s mouth before biting softly at his neck and collarbones. 

Moments later and Harry still hadn’t received an answer yet. He removed his hand from the back of Niall’s head and leaned back, giving Niall a stern look. 

“What?” Niall panted, his face bright red and his lips shiny and bruised. He leaned in to kiss Harry again, making a needy noise when Harry turned away.

“We’ll talk about this, yeah? I don’t want you to bottle this up maybe?” Harry rubbed his hands up and down Niall’s sides before brushing a piece of hair off of his Whatever-They-Are’s forehead. “Promise?” 

Niall was silent a moment; Harry knew Niall needed time to think, to decide to open up. 

“Yeah, promise,” Niall swore, kissing Harry on the nose softly. 

Minutes later and Niall was breathlessly moving his hips down onto Harry’s and reveling in the friction. “Where’s the lube, princess?” Which. Totally justified the noise Harry responded with. 

And if Harry couldn’t form a coherent thought after that, then, well, it didn’t surprise him.

 ~ 

“So when you said…” Harry said, his eyebrows knitted together as he traced shapes onto Niall’s back the next morning. 

“When I said it was stupid, I wasn’t lying.” Niall chuckled. “I think it was culmination of being in America and the perfume and the new single and I just.” He shrugged. “Took it all out on that.”

“Did you tell Greg, at least?” Harry frowned, wondering if Gemma would ever be so silly.

“What am I supposed to say, Haz? ‘Hey, Greg, stop making a profit off of your son’? Christmas’ll go real well.” Niall sighed. “It’s his life and his kid, I know, but it is a bit extreme.”

“Yeah,” Harry said numbly. “But do you think he’s still selling those coins?”

“Fucking hell, Harry!”


End file.
